Life in the System
by IfIWereANerd
Summary: When Emma refuses to open up to her parents about her childhood, Snow and Charming are so determined to learn more about their daughter that they go to Gold for help. When they find themselves transported into her memories, they experience her childhood from her perspective. Rated for mild violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

_"Where are we?" Snow asked, looking around her at the unfamiliar, unwelcoming neighborhood._

_"What did you do?" Charming asked, rounding on Mr. Gold._

_"You said you wanted to get to know more about your daughter's past," Mr. Gold said simply in his oily voice. "So here we are."_

_"And where is here, exactly?" Snow asked._

_"In her memories," Mr. Gold said. _

_Snow and Charming both froze and looked imploringly at Mr. Gold. Snow had been trying to get her daughter to tell her more about her past, but Emma had been so defiant to speak on the subject. The more she refused, the more anxious Snow became. How was she to know her daughter if she wouldn't let her in?_

_Foolishly, she had gone to Mr. Gold for help, and of course, as is always the case, when you go to Mr. Gold, you get what you pay for._

_"I meant giving her a gentle prodding!" Snow said, exasperated. "Not jump into her memories unwanted!"_

_"Come now, deary, if you hadn't wanted magic, you wouldn't have come to me."_

_Snow had no response to that. Was this in fact what she wanted? To get to know what her daughter had been through in her childhood, even if it meant betraying her deepest privacy?_

_"We can't just go poking around her memories without her consent!" Charming badgered, but Snow quieted him as a young, blonde girl came walking towards them down the street._

_"Look!" she said. She and Charming watched, silently mesmerized, as their daughter walked past them and down the street. She came close to running them over but paid them no mind, so that Snow knew she could not see her. She was wearing rough, old jeans and a tattered, bulky coat against the cold. Although Snow could not feel the cold as an outsider presence in this memory, she could see it must have been the dead of winter because her young daughter was huddle and there was breathe steaming into the chill from her lips. The argument was dropped as the two parents, entranced by their daughter, followed her to the foot of the stoop of one of the townhouses._

When Emma opened the door to the worn down townhouse that was her temporary home, the lights were off. She peered around skeptically, slowly stepping through the threshold. She wondered if someone had finally turned their power out. She had seen the notices of the overdue bills for a few weeks now, so it was only a matter of time although she was not looking forward to spending these cold winter nights with no heat.

"You gonna come in and shut that damned door?" her foster father grunted from where he sat in the shadows on the sofa at the far end of the room. He made Emma jump, although she hoped he hadn't noticed. She saw an empty bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers. She did not reach for the door right away.

"Where's Martha?" she asked after her foster mother.

"Who told you you could ask questions?" he barked back at her. "Now close the damned door, it's fucking freezing out."

_Snow recoiled at the man's language. Though Emma was quite tall, she couldn't have been older than thirteen. She sensed the hostility of the home and instantly grew fearful of what this memory would show. She glanced about the house, bathed in the shadow of the last light of the winter day. To say it was modest would have been generous._

Emma reluctantly reached over and slid the door shut behind her. She dropped her jacket at the foot of the coat stand by the door and readjusted her book bag on her shoulder. Without looking at her foster father, who had clumsily vacated his seat on the sofa and stumbled forward, she turned directly for the staircase. But he blocked her path, his eyes bloodshot and his stubble prominent in the shadow of the winter dusk.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"I have a lot of homework to do," she told him, avoiding his piercing stare. He grunted a laugh.

"Homework. You do too much of that shit," he said, taking a swig from the empty bottle in his hand in an attempt to drain the last droplets. Emma did not respond. She attempted to side-swipe him, but he caught her harshly by the upper arm and flung her unceremoniously backwards so that she scrambled to look dignified as she kept her balance.

_Charming stepped forward protectively. He did not like this man's hands on his daughter. Not one bit._

"Hold on a second," he said gruffly. "I need to talk to you about something. Sit down."

Emma remained standing, her skin crawling with discomfort.

"Are you sending me away?" she asked, both hopeful and dreadful that the answer would be yes. She did not want to relocate again, but at the same time she did not particularly like this host stay family. The brother most specifically made her uncomfortable.

"I said sit!" he reiterated aggressively, moving towards her so quickly that her knees automatically buckled and she sank into the sofa. She looked up at him, defiant.

"Look if you're going to send me away then you might as well do it and get it over with," she said.

He pointed an unfocused finger at her, the whiskey bottle dangling from the same hand and reflecting the last glint of the winter sun as it set over the other houses in the neighborhood.

"I should send you away," he told her, "for that mouth of yours."

Emma knew not to argue with him when he was in this state. She sat in silence on the sofa and watched him pace in front of her, seeming to vacillate about what he was trying to say. Then, in a swift movement, he was sitting next to her on the sofa. Emma tensed as he put his arm around her shoulder.

"But you don't want to go away, do you, Ella?"

"Emma," she corrected, sitting stiffly under the weight of his arm around her.

"But if you are going to stay, you need to be good, right? You need to do what you're told. Do you understand?"

"I'm just going to go do my homework," she said evasively, making to leave the sofa, but he pulled her back down, closer to him.

"Are you going to be good, Ella?" he said. "Are you going to obey?"

Slowly his second hand had come across and rested on her leg. He squeezed it slightly and she shuttered.

_Snow gasped, horrified, while Charming curled his hand into a fist, his face white with rage and a vein pulsating in his neck._

"Touch me," she growled defensively, "and I will call the cops faster than you can undo your belt."

The threat hung for a moment of terse silence as she waited for the reaction. He stood swiftly, drawing something from the belt at his hip. With it he dealt her a strong back-handed smack across her face that sent her sprawling over the sofa arm. Grateful for the freedom, she stumbled over the coffee table and backed away, gathering as much distance from the raging man as she could find. She reached up to put pressure to the new wound on her cheek, which she found was bleeding. When she righted herself, she saw the barrel of a small handgun pointed back at her.

_"Hey!" Charming barked, lunging forward as the violence ensued, forgetting for a moment that he could not stop any of this from happening. It had already happened. Snow too forgot herself and bounded into action._

_"N-!" she stifled her own exclamation, jumping between her daughter and the gun barrel for the sake of doing something._

"What makes you think they'd believe a fucking slut like you, anyways?" he screamed at her, spittle spraying from the passion in his voice. "You can go to hell for all I care, just get the fuck out of my house, you little whore."

"Fine," Emma said through clenched teeth. "I'm going."

She squatted down to pick up her jacket, but he released the trigger and she was forced to back out of the way of the bullet.

_Snow and Charming both jumped at the sound. The bullet tore through Snow as if she wasn't even there which, Snow had to remind herself, she wasn't. _

"Leave the jacket and get the fuck out!" he bellowed. She did not need to be told twice, but she did dodge two more shots as she pulled open the door and shot out it. She jumped the stairs and left at a sprint for two blocks before she slowed to a walk. She could see her breath in front of her, and hugged herself for warmth for lack of a jacket. She took a deep, stabilizing breath before she began to walk again.


	2. Chapter 2

_Snow and Charming followed Emma in a shocked silence._

_"Did she ever speak of any of this to you?" Charming asked her. After all, Mary Margaret had been Emma's best friend in Storybrooke before the curse broken._

_"She never talked about it much," Snow admitted sadly. "I usually didn't push the issue. I mean, I know that growing up in the system can be difficult, but I never imagined…"_

_"The worst part is how she is taking it," Charming commented. "She was barely phased. Like she's used to it happening all the time."_

_Snow took Charming's hand for her own comfort as they walked behind their daughter. She wished she could transfer some of her warmth to her. Without her jacket, Emma was shivering dramatically._

Eventually Emma made her way to a vacant lot where a number of homeless men were gathered around a few bins burning with warm fire. Emma walked towards them. As she approached, one of the men looked up and saw her coming.

"Hey Emma," the man called, waving from where he stood over a fire burning in a trash bin. The man was middle aged with one crossed eye and a short, graying beard.

"Hey, Ben," she returned as she came up and stood next to him and warmed her hands.

"Did he get out the belt again?" he asked casually.

"It was the gun this time," she told him.

"Damn," Ben said, although he did not seem to react very strongly. "What you got there?"

"It's really not bad," she shrugged.

"Let me see," he persisted. She turned her face to allow him to inspect her injury. He took her chin and lifted it a bit. The tenderness of the bruise, turning a brief shade of blue on her cheek, made her wince ever-so-slightly.

"Ah, that's not too bad, there," he said encouragingly. "The bleeding's stopped, so that's good. You staying the night? I think it's going to be a cold one, but I'm sure we could find some way to keep each other warm."

He slid his hand behind her hips.

_"Seriously?" Charming seethed._

"None of that," Emma told him firmly, and he backed off with an acquiescing smile. She leaned further over the licking flames. "They turned the heat off in our house, but it will still probably be warmer than out here. I'm surprised it took them this long, I've seen the warnings in the mail for a couple months now. I'll probably sneak back in sometime after dark. He's probably passed out already as it is, but just to be safe."

"Have you eaten?" Ben asked. "I don't have much tonight, but there's half a can of beans…"

"I'm not very hungry," Emma said. "But thanks."

"No problem."

"I think he might send me away this time," she said softly, almost in a whisper, as if she was talking to herself or afraid someone might hear her.

"Do you want to be sent away?" Ben asked.

Emma thought for a moment.

"I don't know," she said. "I mean I don't like living with him, but he's definitely not the worst I've had. The foster family I had in Tucson had fifteen of us and kept us all in the basement. They only let us come out when the agent was coming to check up on us, and then they told us that if we didn't tell her we were happy, we wouldn't get food for a week."

_Snow pulled her hand to her mouth to stifle a sad noise she felt coming from deep down inside of her heart._

"What if I get sent to another place like that? This place isn't much, but I've only got one more year before I'm out of the system. Might as well last it out if I can."

"And then where will you go?" Ben asked. "When you're of the system?"

"Away," was all Emma answered.

"Do you think you'll stay in school?" Ben asked her, looking over the barrel and sniffing deeply. Emma pondered the question.

"I don't know," Emma said. "I like school most of the time, but every year I fall further and further behind because I can't do my homework. Like right now, I have an essay do tomorrow on a book called 'Catcher in the Rye'. And I really liked the book. The character, Holden, runs away from his boarding school and lives in New York all on his own. But I can't write the essay because I don't have any of my school supplies. And even if I hadn't been run out this evening, the power's out the house, so how am I supposed to write an essay with no light?"

"Maybe your teacher would let you hand it in tomorrow?"

"All the teachers already think I'm lazy and stupid because this happens all the time."

"You're not stupid, Emma," Ben assured her. "You're one of the smartest people I know."

Emma smiled in spite of herself.

"Thanks, Ben," she said.

After that, the two just stood in silence leaning over the orange glow of the fire.


	3. Chapter 3

It was some hours after dark that Emma finally chanced returning home. She was no longer cold, but numb, which she appreciated but other nights out in the cold had taught her that the numbness was also dangerous. You could quickly find yourself catching hypothermia without realizing it if you weren't careful. When she got to her house, she expertly swung herself up onto the roof of the porch and jiggled open her window. No point in getting caught in the living room and being thrown out again for good for the night. The mewing of a cat in heat ricocheted off the brownstone bricks around her. She was grateful for that, because it muffled the sound of her entry. When the window was open, she dropped down quietly on the floor of the room she and her foster brother shared so as not to wake him. Emma closed it and relished the relative heat, even though their heat had been turned off.

_Snow and Charming would have been impressed with her lithe entrance if it hadn't meant one sad thing._

_"She's done this before," Charming said sadly as they followed her. "From the looks of it, more than once."_

"I wondered when you'd get back," her brother said from his bed. She jumped.

"Ryan," Emma jumped. "I thought you were sleeping." She turned away from him towards her bed.

"Charlie's really pissed at you," he told her, sitting up and swinging his feet to the ground. "Boy do you have it coming to you in the morning. What did you do this time?"

"It's none of your business," Emma said, bending over and beginning to smooth out the sheets on her bed.

"Now, now, don't get your panties in a twist," Ryan said, walking towards her. "I'm only trying to help." He positioned himself behind her and inhaling into her neck.

"Stop it, Ryan," she said wearily. "I don't have the energy to fight with you right now."

"Then don't fight it," he said, placing his hands on her hips. She shoved him backwards.

"I said cut it out," she hissed, trying to keep her temper down. She knew if she lost her temper, it would only make the abuse worse when it came. "What is it, douche bag day?"

Ryan grabbed her forcefully by her long blonde hair and jerked her head back so her neck was exposed.

"What did you call me?" he spat, flinging her against the wall. The two stood still for a moment, Emma bracing herself for whatever her foster brother might throw at her. He stared at her for a moment, the looked down at her bed. He grabbed at the soft white blanket lying on top.

_Snow gasped as she recognized it, the soft blanket she had wrapped Emma in just after she was born. Her name was still embroidered on the edge._

"I can't believe you still sleep with this piece of junk," he said, holding it up.

"That's mine," Emma said, fiercely, grabbing for it but her brother held it out of her reach and pushed her back against the wall.

"You're too old to be sleeping with a blanky," he mocked.

"My parents gave it to me," she said defensively.

"Oh did they?" Ryan jibed. "Was this before or after they dumped you on the side of the highway? Your parents didn't give a damn about you then and they don't give a damn about you now, but you still sleep with this like it's some kind of symbol of their love. They never loved you, Emma, no one ever loved you."

_Snow was devastated to see the hurt that crept into Emma's eyes as he said this. Her daughter avoided her foster brothers' eyes, but she could tell he had hit her right where it hurt the most. Charming wanted to pound the boy into a pulp._

"What do you say," he said, grabbing her by the wrist, "we give this blanket a test run?

He flung her onto the bed and pulled himself on top of her, burying his face in her neck and suffocating her with his weight.

"Stop," she choked, but her foster brother persisted until she kneed him in the groin. He fell off her then, grunting in pain and allowing her to catch her breath before he was back on her, this time more violent.

"You're going to pay for that!" he spat, slapping her down. She swung and missed a few times with her fist before she finally caught him in the face. There was a sickening crunch and she felt something warm and wet dribbling over her hand as Ryan fell backwards, clutching his nose.

"You little bitch!" he was screaming. "You broke my fucking nose!"

But Emma had already grabbed her one possession, her blanket, and darted to the window. She opened it quickly and stumbled out it, barely catching herself before she fell off the porch roof. She shakily slid herself down to the ground and, for the second time that day, ran.

When she was out of breath, she ducked into an alleyway and slid with her back against the bricks to the ground, panting. Her breath came in short, shaky spurts and she could see if puffing in the cold in front of her face. She blinked back tears and rubbed her face. Then she regarded the blanket sitting on her lap. Her hand was covered in her foster brother's blood, and a drop of it had seeped on to the blanket.

"Oh no!" she said, frantically, first wiping the blood of her hand and then attempting to get the stain off the blanket. "No, no, no, no." She rubbed and dabbed and the red dot became muted, but it would not go away completely. Emma stopped trying and leaned back, just staring at it. Then, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold it in any longer. She felt her lip quiver for a moment, and then her strength failed her, and she began to cry. She pulled the blanket to her face and wept into it.


	4. Chapter 4

"I can't go back," Emma said. She sat huddled, her baby blanket wrapped around her, too tired to stand next to the fire. Ben stood above her, listening. "They'll probably charge me with assault and take me to juvy, and if not they'll definitely send me away again. I've known that I've out-stayed my welcome for a while now, I guess. Closing in on eighteen months."

"Is that the longest you've ever been in one home at a time?" Ben asked.

"The first family I was placed at I stayed with them for three years. But then they had children of their own and the house was getting kind of crowded so they sent me back. I don't really remember much about them, although sometimes I get a certain song stuck in my head that I can't quite place. I think they used to sing me to sleep with it."

_Snow didn't want to be seeing or hearing any of this anymore. It was all too much, and she feared what kind of a memory would lay around the next bend._

"After that, I've never been anywhere longer than two years. Most of them sent me back if I got too expensive to feed. The last family sent me back because I stole some pens from a convenience store. I had asked them for pens because all of mine had run out and I couldn't do my homework anymore, but they just told me to stop asking, so I stole some and got caught and they sent me back. And then I came here."

Emma pulled her blanket a bit closer around her, but her shivering persisted.

"But I'm done with it. With the whole damned system. I'm ready, I'm just leaving, I'm out, it's over."

"Where will you go?" he asked her. She shrugged and sniffled. "To find your parents?" he prodded. Emma paused for a moment, considering her answer.

"They didn't want me before," she said dejectedly. "I don't see why they would want me now." She looked down at her hands, and then back into the flames, frowning. "Maybe it's better this way. I'd only disappoint them."

_Snow bit her quivering lip. She wished she could whisper in her daughter's ear that she could never disappoint them. Let her know how much she meant to her and how proud she was of her. But this was a memory, and even if Snow said it now, it would not change what that thirteen-year-old girl had known at the time this was all happening._

"I'll probably try and get some place warm," she said, her eyes cold as stone. "To wait out the winter."

"Smart girl," Ben muttered. "I wish I had your brains."

"Smart is only going to get me so far," Emma said, disheartened. "I don't know where I'm going to get the money for the bus ticket." At that, Emma hung her head between her knees and began to cry silent tears, save for a sniff or two. Ben patted her back, frowning. "Why can't I have a place too, you know?" Emma asked in a quiet voice. "A place to call home. Where people would want me to come home, and would miss me if I didn't. Why don't I get that?"

_Snow wanted to reach out and comfort her young daughter. She wanted to crouch down and embrace her and warm her and tell her that everything would be alright. It was taking all she had right now not to break down bawling, at the sight of her young daughter so utterly alone and devastated._

Ben regarded the weeping girl for a moment, and then he crouched beside her and lifted her chin gently with his finger. Her eyes were red and her nose was puffy in the cold.

"Now you listen to me," he said kindly. "You and that pretty little face are going to be just fine, do you understand me? You're going to go far. Just keep your chin up and the wind to your back, and no one in this world can stop you. You hear me?"

Emma sniffed and for a moment she looked so small. Just like the child she was. Barely a teenager, off to face the world. She smiled and nodded meekly.

"Good girl," Ben said.


	5. Chapter 5

Snow and Charming found themselves in Gold's shop once more, surrounded by the usual random clutter and the dark wooden shelving. For a moment they were speechless.

"You wanted to see it," Gold sneered. "You wanted to know more about your daughter. There you are."

"Don't look so smug, Gold," Charming said defensively as Snow wiped the tears that had dried on her red cheeks from the experience. "You abandoned your own son to the same system, didn't you? Isn't that how the two of them met, living on the street together?"

Gold looked at Charming with fury etched in every line in his face.

"Get out," he hissed through gritted teeth. Snow and Charming cast glowering glances at Mr. Gold as they left.

Even before the bell on his door had stopped ringing, Snow and Charming had walked right into August.

"Whoops, sorry Snow…" August said, reaching out to steady her. As he looked into her face, he saw the angst there and his brow creased in concern. "Hey – are you ok?"

"I'm…" Snow started, but she just couldn't bring herself to say fine. She was a wreck, and August wasn't helping. "I just…" she turned to Charming, trying desperately to hold her tears back. "I can't…"

He nodded knowingly to her and she turned and fled, needing to be alone. August watched her go, confused.

"What's that about?" August asked Charming, who himself looked kind of pale.

"We, uh…" Charming started, running an uncomfortable hand through his short hair. How did he begin to explain what he had just seen? "Mr. Gold was showing us some of Emma's memories. From her childhood. And, well…"

"Say no more," August said, his eyebrows raised. "It's not pleasant, what children in the foster system go through. I remember."

"Is that how it is for everyone?" Charming asked, disgusted.

"I don't know exactly how Emma's life looked when she was younger, never talked to her about it. For people who grew up in the system, we definitely know better than to ask each other to relive our childhoods. But just from my experience, I can only imagine how much worse it would have been for a girl. Most girls actually get adopted outright, which is better, but it leaves fewer of them in the actual system. Emma was unfortunate that her first family sent her back, because at the age of three, you really don't have much of a chance of getting adopted again. Most families want infants they can raise as their own. Add to that the fact that Emma is beautiful…"

"Watch it," David said protectively.

"I could never think of Emma like that," August assured him. "I knew her as a baby, I feel like a brother, a part of her family. But no one can deny that she is drop dead gorgeous. Not even you."

Charming acquiesced to shrug. It was true.

"That can only have made things harder for Emma in the system," he said sadly. The pair walked pass Granny's and Charming, seeing his wife sitting up at the counter looking distraught and sipping from a mug, peeled off to join her. As he entered, he saw she was talking quietly to a concerned-looking Red over the counter. He sidled up beside her on a barstool and reached over to rub her back reassuringly.

"Snow told me what you guys saw," Red said. "It sounds horrible."

"I never would have imagined it was like that," David admitted. "I can't believe she made it out in one piece, let alone lived to be able to fulfill the prophecy. It was unbearable, just to watch."

"You want to hear unbearable?" asked a good-humored voice from behind them. Emma had just entered the diner. She slid onto the bar stool beside Snow, heaving her bag and jacket dramatically onto the counter. "Try the mountain of paperwork on my desk I've been wading through all day. I mean, aren't there any crimes being committed that I can go and solve or something? I am the sheriff!"

She reached over and plucked a French fry from her mother's plate and tossed it light-heartedly in her mouth. She looked up and saw three pairs of sad eyes on her. She froze mid-chew, her eyebrows raised.

"What?" she asked.

Snow looked as if she was about to say something, and Emma saw true pain in her face that caught her off guard. What conversation had she walked into? But before Snow even said anything, she seemed to lose herself. A soft noise caught in her throat and she looked away.

"I have to…" she mumbled, swiveling her stool and in one swift movement she was out of the diner. Emma looked after her, utterly perplexed and then turned to the other two.

"What did I do?"


	6. Chapter 6

Emma stormed out of the diner with long, angry strides, throwing the door open so that they blinds bounced musically. Charming was on her heels, calling out to her.

"Emma, we're so sorry," he started.

"You had no right!" Emma was seething. When she got to the fence at the entrance, she turned around and bore down on her father. "Those are _my_ memories. Mine. What made you think…?"

"We weren't thinking," Charming agreed with her. "We didn't mean to…"

"To what?" Emma asked fiercely. "To invade my deepest privacy?"

"We just wanted to… get to know you better," Charming said meekly, looking apologetically at the ground and then back up at his daughter.

"So now you have me all figured out, is that it?" she asked in a low, disappointed voice.

"No, of course not…" Charming started but she cut him off.

"I never got in fights unless provoked," she said, "but yeah if someone hit me, I hit back, cause I learned early on that if you didn't, you didn't survive. I'm sorry if that makes me a terrible person."

Emma turned to continue storming away.

"Emma, wait, that's not…" Charming called after her, but Emma only turned back long enough to finish with one final thought.

"And for the record, I didn't even break that kid's nose."

Daylight was waning and after a long, meandering walk lost deep in her thoughts, Emma found herself at the edge of the water, near Henry's old 'castle'. She sat down on a bench and watched with narrowed eyes as the setting sun sprinkled the water with color. She did not know how long she sat there before she felt someone else come up and sit beside her.

"What do you want, August?" she asked.

"I wanted to see how you were doing," he said gently. When she did not respond, he continued, "your father told me what happened."

Emma squinted against the glare of the water.

"Great," she said with sarcasm, "now the whole town gets to know all my personal business."

"He didn't tell me what they saw," August said, "but I have my own memories of growing up in and out of the system, so on some level I can imagine."

"I thought you made it out," Emma said.

"I did. A number of times. But somehow, I always found my way back in again," he looked over at her with a small smile, but he found she was not in the mood for light conversation. "They caught me. More than once. I had my fair share of foster families as well."

"Yeah, but at least you knew," Emma said bitterly, "that somewhere out there you had a real family, and they loved you and didn't actually want to give you up."

"To be honest, sometimes that made it worse," August said, readjusting where he sat. "Sometimes its better not to know what you're missing. I could remember my father, and he was warm and loving, and would have done anything for me. Sometimes I wondered if that didn't then make it more difficult when I woke up to a drunk foster father stumbling home, or sending me to bed without dinner because he wanted my share."

For a moment, the two sat lost in their own memories, silently sharing the bond of the tormented past they had both had. It was surprisingly comforting.

"They want me to be someone I don't know how to be," Emma said sadly. "They want me to be this – daughter. Who loves them and trusts them unconditionally. And of course I love them, but I don't even know what that means. I've never had that before. And as much as they want me to, I can't just decide to trust them. I can't just decide to trust anyone. I wish I could, but I can't. I'm too damaged."

Emma laughed at that last bit, because she thought if she didn't she might start crying. August reached over and put his hand on hers.

"They just want you to be you, Emma," he said, leaning down to catch her eye. "I know how hard that is to truly believe for you, but they love you. All of you. They just want a chance to know all of you, too."


	7. Chapter 7

There was a soft rapping sound from outside, before its source slid the door slightly open and peered her wide, sympathetic eyes inside.

"Can I come in?" Emma asked.

Snow could not bear to look her daughter in the eye, so she just hugged her knees a little closer, staring in front of her, and nodded slightly, trying to keep her tears at bay. Emma came in and shut the door behind her. She gently sat opposite her mother and friend on the bed.

"Red told me what happened," Emma started. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Snow's lip quivered and she bit it tightly and looked away. That only made her feel worse. She felt a few light tears leak from her eyes and stream down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry you had to live through it," she said, swallowing.

"But I did live through it," Emma said, her voice softer than Snow had known it to be. "That's what's important, isn't it? I'm here, I'm right here, and I'm fine." Snow still couldn't bring herself to look at her daughter. "Has it really changed your view of me so much that you can't even look at me?"

The last part came out in a vulnerable, shaky whisper that made Snow snap her eyes to her daughter, shame filling her. Was that what she thought this was about? Suddenly she felt a strong need to be holding her daughter in her arms. She extracted herself from her small, self-shielding ball and crawled forward, embracing her friend.

"Of course not!" she wept, trying and failing to maintain a shred of composure. "I'm sorry, Emma, I'm just so sorry for everything, so disappointed in myself for not being able to protect you."

Emma allowed herself to be cradled for a moment, feeling hesitant warm tears leak from the corners of her own eyes and bury themselves in the shoulder of her mother's sweater.

"Is there any way you can see this as a bonding experience?" she suggested with a watery chuckle. "I was forced to leave by my foster father at gun point, you were sent into the woods by your stepmother with a huntsman meant to kill you. I lived out of the back of a car I stole, and you lived in a hide out in the woods and stole jewels."

"I never took you for a bright side kind of girl," Snow hiccupped, leaning back and taking her daughter's face in her pale hands. "I never wanted that life for you, Emma. If I'd known what I was sending you to, I never would have put you in that wardrobe."

"Well then I guess it's a good thing you didn't know," Emma said, "or I would still be a one-day-old baby, David would still be in a comma, and we would all be cursed to the end of our days. And hey, for outcasts with rotten families, we turned out alright, didn't we? In the end?"

Snow nostalgically brought her hand up to her daughter's face and brushed a persistent teardrop from her cheek.

"Just fine," was all she managed to choke out through quivering lips. Emma gave her a watery smile.

Emma allowed her mother a few more moments of nostalgia and another embrace before she suggested that they migrate to include David in this sad little love-fest. He was sitting at the counter of the kitchenette, sipping a beer and twirling his finger around the rim of the glass gloomily. When the two women emerged from Snow's room, he looked up expectantly.

"Everything ok?" he asked, standing as they approached.

"We talked it out," Emma said. David moved to join them, wrapping his arm around Snow and placing a kiss on her cheek. "But I owe both of you an apology. I shouldn't have pushed you away so much and been so secretive about my past."

"No, Emma," Charming said, "we shouldn't have pried. It wasn't any of our business, and we're so sorry we breeched your privacy."

"I'm not," Emma persisted. "Because it is your business. I'm your daughter, and I can complete understand why it would mean so much to you both to know what my childhood was like. I guess I was trying to protect you from it, but we are a family, and families should share with each other. I guess I'm still getting used to that. I mean, honestly most of it I've spent my whole adult life trying to forget, so it's weird now to have you guys wanting me to remember."

Snow sniffed, and Emma was surprised to see even her father looking at her with glossy eyes. He paused for a moment, on the verge of saying something, but as if he wasn't sure if he should.

"What is it?" Emma prodded him gently. Snow looked up into his pained face.

"It's just," he breathed. "Can I… just…"

He reached out gently, stepping forward, and at first Emma didn't know where this was going. Then, she felt herself enveloped in his strong embrace. He held her very tightly and protectively, and as Emma allowed herself to rest her head on his shoulder, she sense that he had been wanting to this for quite a while now. For the first time in her life, she felt like she had a father. The power of the emotion brought tears to her eyes, which she let slide silently onto his sweater.

Eventually Snow joined the embrace, and the family stood together for a long moment, grieving the past and appreciating the present. When they broke apart, Emma lightly swept a few tears from her cheeks and looked at both her parents.

"But no more secrets, and no more running away," she promised them. "You both have a right to know how I grew up, and honestly, I have a right to talk about it, as much as that might scare me." She walked her way over to the table as she spoke and sat down. Snow and Charming followed her and sat opposite her. She looked at them both.

"So," she said with a deep breath. "What do you want to know?"

* * *

**Hey Readers,**

**Just wanted to let everyone know that this is as far as I intended to go with this story, it was always going to be fairly short. But I know I've had a lot of responses saying I should keep going, which is why I ended it this way. Feel free to pick where I've left off, and write stories about the kinds of memories you think Emma would have from growing up in the system. Maybe Emma, Snow and Charming can visit some of her memories together and she can commentate on them. Or feel free to use the same concept to explore other memories, like when Emma meets Neal, etc. Sorry to disappoint!**


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